The Mask
by yeskateison9999
Summary: What happens when you can't distinguish between reality and your imagination? It's all a blur. You're hiding behind a mask.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"I'm here to see Stephanie…" I glanced down at the crumpled paper in my hand to check the name. "Ritz," I finished and shoved it back into my purse.

The receptionist – a man, I noted – nodded and picked up the phone, punching in a few numbers as he doodled swirls on the paper in front of him.

"What's your name, sweetie?" he momentarily glimpsed up from his paper at me.

"Emilia Duncan," I told him as I admired his perfectly ironed blazer and purple tie. Clearly he was gay.

"Emilia Duncan is here to see you, Miss Ritz. Shall I send her up?" he spoke into the phone before hanging up. He stood and walked around the granite counter. "Follow me."

True Religion jeans topped off with European shoes. My gay-dar was spot on.

He pressed the 'Up' arrow beside the elevator door and instructed me to take it up to the nineteenth floor. Stephanie's assistant would be waiting for me in the lobby.

This was my first job interview after I graduated from college and I was beyond nervous. I checked my reflection in the mirrored walls of the elevator before the door opened. Everything seemed to be intact except that my dress was wrinkled. That's what happens when you sit in two hours of LA traffic I suppose.

"Emilia, this way," a petite woman waved me over. Maybe I shouldn't have worn heels. I towered over her. But height was equivalent to power, I reassured myself.

There was a woman with short blonde hair facing the door and two other girls sitting across from her, anxiously clutching their portfolios.

"Take a seat and we'll begin interviewing," the woman who met me at the elevator said.

"All right, let's see here," Stephanie spoke as she sifted through some papers on her desk. "Rebecca, stand up for me." The blonde to the right of me stood up timidly and placed her resume book on the chair behind her. "Rebecca, how long have you been in LA for?"

"Just a few weeks," she answered, her voice trembling.

"What made you apply for a job at William Morrison Endeavor?"

"I-I…WME is a prestigious agency and I believe I would be a great benefit to the company," she replied as though she rehearsed that line over a thousand times.

"How would you benefit the company?"

"Well, I-I am a great communicator…"

"Clearly," Stephanie interrupted. "Thank you, Rebecca. Candice will validate your parking on your way out."

"Um….O-Ok," Rebecca whimpered and grabbed her stuff before bolting out the door.

That was brutal. And so was the next. Except Marie fled in tears after being harshly criticized from head to toe – her hair was too curly, skin too dark, legs too muscular, etc.

"Looks like it's all up to you, Emilia," Stephanie said, searching for my paper in the pile. "San Diego native," she mused. "Communication major, Editor-in-Chief of a student-run magazine, blah blah blah. Tell me something interesting about yourself."

"Well, I am tri-lingual. English, Spanish, and Italian."

"Ok," she said, not sounding too impressed. "Now, tell me. Would you consider dying your hair blonde?"

My eyes opened wide. "Uh, no. No way," I laughed, running my fingers through my auburn hair.

"All right. I like that you aren't a pushover. What is your idea of a good night?"

I scanned my resume, wondering why she was asking such absurd questions. "I guess just hanging out at home watching movies or going to a concert."

"Good," she nodded as she pondered another question to interrogate me with. "Do you have a problem being the center of attention?"

"Well, I've never really had that problem. I'm really just a behind-the-scenes kind of girl, but I mean…I wouldn't mind having the spotlight once in a while."

Stephanie smiled for the first time as she stood up and shook my hand. "I'll see you Monday morning. 9am sharp. And dress casually."

I walked out of there not knowing what happened…at all. I think I just landed myself a job?


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

I sat in the same seat as my interview waiting for Stephanie to arrive and tell me what exactly I was supposed to be doing. Candice said she would just be five minutes, but it seemed like it had been at least twenty.

"Sorry I'm late," Stephanie pushed open the door to her office, coffee in hand. "Emilia, Robert. Robert, Emilia," she introduced us nonchalantly. "Sit down, Rob."

Rob shyly waved and took a seat next to me.

"Not to sound rude or anything," Rob began, "But what is this all about, Stephanie?" I was certainly glad he asked because I was wondering the same thing.

"I'm going to ask you a question, Emilia, and I want you to be completely honest. Who is Rob dating?"

"Uh," I hesitated, glancing over my shoulder at him; his facial expression displayed bewilderment. "Kristen Stewart, I think. His costar."

"Exactly," Stephanie responded. "And you are 100% incorrect."

"What are you getting at?" Rob questioned.

"Emilia, you are going to pose as Robert's girlfriend for the time being," Stephanie casually remarked.

"I'm sorry," Robert scoffed. "I wasn't aware you were also a matchmaking service."

He took the words right out of my mouth.

Stephanie sighed. "Rob, you complain about the rumors and I am offering you a way to fix them for good. You'll never have to answer a question about your 'chemistry' with Kristen again."

"That may be true, but I'll get more questions about where she came from!" he pointed to me. "Sorry," he apologized.

"No problem," I laughed gently. I was just going to sit back and watch them go back and forth.

"Just go out with her a few time and see what happens. It can't hurt. It could only mean good things for your image – hanging out with a normal girl your age."

"Whatever," he gave in and headed for the door.

Stephanie caught him before he left. "You have a reservation at Orso at seven. Don't be late, Rob."

"Let me guess, you tipped the paparazzi about that, too?" he snapped.

"He'll come around to the idea," she told me after he had left. "He's under a lot of stress at the moment."

I was in no place to question her judgment. Besides, Rob had already done a pretty decent job in making a scene. Stephanie has been working in this business for over fifteen years, dealing with countless celebrities who have come and gone through the limelight. She knew what she was doing. And me? I was fresh out of college and this was my first job. As bizarre as it was, I was going to do whatever it took to make a good impression.


	3. Chapter 3

As I rode in the backseat of the taxi to the restaurant, my mind kept replaying images from earlier today. Rob slamming the palms of his hands on the table, cursing under his breath, and eventually storming out of the room.

All I could think was this was probably going to be the worst date of all time, fake or not.

The taxi pulled over to the curb and a man was immediately at my door, holding it open for me as I stepped out in a cotton shirtdress and nude booties [.?ID=484086&CategoryID=14541].

I walked up the cement pathway behind an ivy-covered wall into the restaurant. An older gentleman greeted me, "Are you meeting someone, miss?" I nodded, peering on my tiptoes behind his shoulder to see if I could catch a glimpse of Robert.

"Yeah, I don't see—"

"We have a reservation under Emilia," someone – Rob – said behind me.

"Right," I faked a smile at the host.

"Right this way," he grinned, picking up two menus off the counter before leading Rob and me to our table outside on the patio. For the most part it was dark except for the twinkling lights that hung in the trees that canopied over the outside diners.

Once we took our seats, Rob instantly started looking through the menu. One side was in English and the other in Italian. We were completely silent as we scanned the menu, which was short as it was. I had known what I wanted five minutes ago and I even triple checked it.

I cleared my throat before speaking. Someone needed to say something or we'd be sitting here in silence all night. "This is really awkward."

His grave expression caught me off guard, "Emilia, can we not go into this right now?"

"You know," I started, "It's not like I want to be here either." I kept my tone steady, not wanting to cause uproar. "You clearly would rather be somewhere else tonight—"

Rob pushed his chair away from the table and slammed his napkin down on his plate. "You don't know the first thing about me."

Before I could ask where he was going, he answered for me. "I'm going to the bathroom."

Once he had disappeared inside, I noticed the server was standing uncomfortably, pen and pad in hand ready to take our order.

"Uh," I hesitated. "We're going to need a few more minutes," I told him.

He nodded timidly and greeted the next table over.

Rob returned a few minutes later, the grim look still on his face. "Has the waiter come around?"

"Yes, you were in the bathroom."

The tone of the rest of the evening did not change. Rob remained in the same 'I'm-going-to-be-a-jack-ass' mood and I sat there bewildered trying to come up with reasons why so many girls were in love with him. He had pretty hands; I'll give him that. And his eyes were a peculiarly beautiful shade of blue. But those were two things that he had no responsibility over.

After he paid for the bill, I followed him outside and hopped in the first cab I saw. I didn't even bother asking if he wanted to share a ride because frankly, I don't think I would have been able to handle another twenty minutes in his presence. It was that bad.

"How was it?" Katy exclaimed as soon as I entered our apartment.

I moaned. "Painful."

"What?" my other roommate, Hudson, echoed from her bedroom. "What do you mean painful?"

I fell onto the couch, exhausted. The two met me in the living room and muted the TV.

"Was it that bad?" Katy asked.

I nodded, closing my eyes. "He is such an ass. I don't think we actually had a conversation."

"What are you going to do?" Hudson questioned, heading towards the kitchen to fix a pot of tea. "Are you going to quit?"

"No," I murmured, even though that's exactly what I wanted to do. "I'm going to talk to Stephanie tomorrow in the office. Hopefully she'll have some words of wisdom for me."

"Hang in there, kid," Katy said, unmuting the TV and picking a magazine up off the table.

I grabbed the magazine from her grasp, noticing a small picture of Rob and Kristen on the top corner of it. "See, that's exactly what I don't want happening to me," I explained, pointing to the photograph. "I don't want to be known as Robert Pattinson's girlfriend. If people see me with him, that's all I'll ever be known for - 'Oh yeah, you were dating Robert Pattinson.' I want people to know me for being me, to make a name for myself."

"Do you know how many girls would kill to be in your position?" Hudson asked rhetorically, returning to the living room with two mugs of tea – one for me and the other for her. Katy hated tea.

"This is crazy, but what if you, like, disguised yourself – came up with an entirely new identity – when you went out with him?" Katy suggested.

It was mad, but it was also genius. "Do you think I could pull it off?"

"With my makeup skills, a new wardrobe, and a wig you'd be golden," she beamed.

I arrived at the office a few minutes early, hoping to catch Stephanie to talk before she got busy with work, but her door was shut tightly. I learned last week to never bother her when her door was closed when one of the assistants barged in on her in the middle of an important phone call. It was not pretty.

So I sat at my desk and logged onto the computer. While it was starting up, I stared out the window overlooking Wilshire Blvd. Cars slammed on their horns when someone cut in front of them and sirens zoomed down the street. It was already so busy and it wasn't even 9am.

"Hey," a faint voice said, startling me. I tore my gaze from outside and swirled around in my chair towards the voice.

"Hi?" I inquired, astonished to see Rob standing beside my desk.

"Erm," he hesitated. "Can I talk to you outside for a minute?"

"Sure…" I answered cautiously. "What about?" I asked as we stepped out into the hallway outside the office. "Were you just talking to Stephanie?"

He nodded and leaned his back against the wall. "I need to apologize for last night."

I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms over my chest.

He groaned and pulled at his hair. "I swear, I'm truly sorry. I am just having an incredibly hard time dealing with this right now." He motioned between him and me with his hands. I listened intently as he continued. "I guess I took my anger towards Stephanie and my manager, Nick, out on you. I know you didn't do anything to deserve the way I treated you last night."

Still bitter, I couldn't help but ask if Stephanie forced him to apologize.

"No, of course not," he replied.

"Then what were you talking to her about?"

"I asked her to rethink this whole thing, but she refused. Her mind is set on it, but I understand if you want nothing to do with me after last night."

"Are you trying to get rid of me?" I asked, offended.

"No, it's not like that at all. I just, I know what it's like to be under constant scrutiny. Under no circumstance would I ever sign up to do something that would put me in that position."

"Well," I faltered. "You kinda did when you signed onto the Twilight movies," I laughed softly.

He mimicked my laughter and for once, I saw him smile. You can add that to my previous list of why girls love him.

"I honestly don't think I'd be able to handle all the criticism," I told him, and he nodded disappointingly. "But, I do propose a solution."

His head perked up.

"It's kinda silly, but my roommates and I were talking about it last night. What if I had this totally different identity when I am with you?"

"Like a costume?" he queried.

"Like a costume," I concurred.

He took a deep breath. "So we're going to do this?"

I nodded, "I guess so."


End file.
